


Filling In

by AssortedGeekery



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M, Multi, Soulmarks, Soulmates, sephiroth is an idiot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 18:04:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20178469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AssortedGeekery/pseuds/AssortedGeekery
Summary: Soulmarks and the bonds they form between people are a fact of life. But Hojo really thought he'd protected Sephiroth from such nonsense.





	Filling In

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pt_tucker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pt_tucker/gifts).

> For pt_tucker, with the prompt:
> 
> Genesis Rhapsodos/Sephiroth, Zack Fair/Angeal Hewley, Zack/Cloud, Angeal/Genesis/Sephiroth  
I have a strong craving for soulmate/soulmark AU for any of these pairings.
> 
> And my notes:  
Soulmates have unique marks to represent themselves, which appear both on their body and on the body of their partner/s. Your partner’s mark will be a faint line drawing until the first time you touch them, at which point it will fill in with a burning, electric shock sort of feeling. A minor version of this feeling is felt when the partners mark forms, which is when the partner reaches puberty.

It had been something of a surprise when Sephiroth had been born with a soulmark. Hojo had been hoping the inhuman genetic material would negate any possibility of such an earthly bond and thus protect the future warrior from the weakness of such an emotional entanglement. But there it was, an enormous Flower of Life in the small of his back, one of the largest marks Hojo had ever seen. His own, a stylized koi fish, was barely three inches long. 

Thankfully, having the mark didn’t mean Sephiroth would ever meet whoever carried its twin. Hojo did what he could to seep the boy isolated and hesitant to engage in physical contact, and to wear gloves in public. And then he had to go and wake up screaming in surprise and pain early one morning, clawing at his burning skin. 

Not one mark. Oh no, it couldn’t be that easy. Sephiroth had come into a  _ pair _ of soulmarks. The first was a band that twisted around his right thigh like a garter. It was too faint to determine what it was a band  _ of _ , but it looked to be elemental in nature. The second, which Hojo privately referred to as ‘that vulgar thing’ was a colossal animal print of some sort on his left buttock. It would have been spectacularly sized if it wasn’t being compared to Sephiroth’s own mark.

A pair of marks. It wasn’t unheard of for a person to bear more than one soulmark, but it  _ was _ rare, and having them appear at the same time had only occurred- on record, at least- a few times in the last century or so. Two marks at the same time meant a  _ triad _ . Two blasted people Sephiroth could become unreasonably attached to, both roughly the same in age and, given Sepiroth’s age at the time of appearance, about the same age as him.

Knowing this, Hojo was incredibly relieved when the results of Project G arrived and were known, more or less the minute they walked in the doors, to be a bonded pair. Genesis, small and outspoken and unbelievably flamboyant, had made that very clear. Angeal had calmly confirmed it. Nothing to worry about  _ there _ , then. 

———-

The war came on quickly, fueled by Emperor Godo’s insistence that his country was staying out of the ShinRa nonsense and President Shinra’s insistence that Wutai bow to his demands. At first SOLDIER’s beleaguered new Director did his best to maintain a steady rotation, especially for the highly in-demand Big Three, as Sephiroth, Angeal and Genesis had come to be known, but sometimes it became necessary to have all three of them in the field at the same time, and once that happened it was hard to get them back into a proper rotation.

Early spring brought torrential rains to Wutai, but the battles continued. Shock troops and ninja appeared out of the murk long enough to do terrible damage to Shinra forces before vanishing again. The front line was pushed back, putting distance between the main Shinra force and the capitol, and Sephiroth called a tactical retreat to the western highlands, where his troops were slightly less likely to drown in their own tents overnight.

The encampment they settled in had been well fortified and improved upon at the beginning of the war, boasting barracks, cabins for the higher ranking officers, and a set of gang showers each large enough to bathe three dozen men at once. Sephiroth’s troops were more than happy to pack themselves into the barracks, shower off weeks of ground-in mud, and wait for orders. 

Sephiroth, meanwhile, wasn’t giving any orders except ‘stay put and don’t do anything stupid’. Mostly this was because Lazard had given him orders to do whatever necessary to reduce casualties until the weather turned, and because he had come down with a truly, spectacularly rotten cold and was holed up in his cabin, hacking and groaning and being miserable.

The retreat call spread to the other forces, and both Angeal and Genesis rotated in to the highland camp to check in and confirm orders. While the men they travelled with availed themselves of the mess hall and showers, the pair of commanders made their way to Sephiroth’s cabin, two down from the perennially empty one that had the CO’s insignia on the door. 

Sephiroth didn’t answer when Angeal knocked. 

“….they  _ said _ he was in here,” Angeal said uncertainly. 

“He is,” Genesis yawned. “I can feel his energy. And he’s not asleep, either.”

Angeal sighed and knocked harder. The drizzle had picked up a penetrating quality that was rapidly soaking through his cover and he wanted to be out of the wet as soon as possible.

“General?” he called. “General Sephiroth?”

The door opened a crack and one red-rimmed green eye glared at them through the opening. 

“ _ What _ ?” Sephiroth’s usually smooth tone was cracked and broken, thick with exhaustion. 

“…..reporting in to receive orders?” Angeal ventured. 

“…..with all due respect, Commanders, right now your orders are to fuck right off.”

Genesis bristled. “ _ Excuse me _ ?”

“You are excused.”

Sephiroth shut the door before the incensed redhead could do more than sputter.

Angeal blinked. “Ah...that was unexpected…”

“ _ Unexpected _ ? Who does he think he  _ is _ ?”

“…our commanding officer?”

“I don’t care! He has no  _ right _ !”

“He didn’t sound well, Gen, he’s probably in a bad mood.”

“ _ You _ don’t let  _ me _ get away with having a bad mood at  _ my _ underlings, so don’t you go giving him an excuse I’m not allowed to have.”

Angeal sighed. “We should try again later.”

“Oh fuck  _ that _ . I want a shower, dry clothes and a gallon of coffee.  _ You _ can come back again if you want to. I’m going to follow orders and  _ fuck right off _ .”

Genesis stamped off the tiny stoop and stormed away through the camp, steaming gently in the rain and leaving behind a pair of slightly charred boot prints on the unfinished planks beside Angeal’s feet. Angeal sighed and considered knocking again, but changed his mind and headed off after Genesis. 

A little over two hours later, Angeal was back, this time forewarned and therefore armed with two thermoses and a pack stuffed with supplies. He’d also taken the time to shower and eat, and so was feeling a little more like his stubborn self. And speaking of stubborn, he’d taken a few minutes to soothe Genesis’ ruffled feathers, speaking gently to his bondmate until he felt calm and contentment fluttering against their bond like a banked fire. 

Thus prepared, he knocked at Sephiroth’s door again. 

The door opened fast this time, still barely more than a crack as Sephiroth peered balefully out at him. “What  _ now _ ? You have your orders.”

“And with all due respect, General, I followed them. And having ‘fucked right off’ as instructed, I’ve returned. With supplies. I got the impression you needed them.”

Sephiroth raised one eyebrow. “…supplies?”

“Supplies. May I come in? It’s still raining.”

“Raining is all it  _ does _ anymore,” Sephiroth grumbled. “I suppose-“ He opened the door a little further, then stepped back sharply as Angeal calmly bulled through it and ducked inside. “ _ Commander.” _

_ “ _ Just Angeal is fine. It’s not as though this is especially formal,” Angeal hummed. He checked his boots for mud, finding little after he had used the boot scraper out front and knocked his heels against the step. If he managed to stay indoors for longer than a few minutes, he’d take them off entirely. “If you listen to the scuttlebutt, there’s a rumor going around that you’re a little under the weather.”

“A commanding officer shouldn’t be listening to the gossip,” Sephiroth sniffed. Under normal circumstances, it would have been a haughty, derisive sort of a sound, but at the moment it proved to be a congested, liquid sort of a noise. 

“It can be especially helpful,” Angeal hummed. “…..you look awful.”

Sephiroth scowled at him. But he did, in truth, look like something the coeurl had dragged in. His hair was tied back in a rumpled, clearly slept-in braid, his eyes were watery and red-rimmed, and his nose was chapped. Rather than standing straight and neat in his uniform, he slumped, curled in on himself and clearly wanting to rescue the blanket lying crumpled on the floor. 

Angeal fetched the blanket and handed it over. “Here. Bundle up and get comfortable, I’ll get things out for you. Have you had any medicine?”

“They don’t make medicines of sufficient strength for a First Class,” Sephiroth informed him. 

“Yes they do, I’d never survive spring allergies without them. Even for Firsts at our level. But I’ll take that as a no. Lucky for you I brought some.”

Sephiroth started to argue, but turned sharply away from Angeal, coughing hard into a corner of the blanket in his hands. Angeal winced at the painfully chesty sound. 

“Yeah, you definitely need something for that cough. Come on, let’s get you settled down.”

As the coughing eased off, Sephiroth turned to look at Angeal again. “Really, Commander, I-“

“I said call me Angeal, given the circumstances. Come on.” He forged across the room to the bed in the corner, a welter of mussed blankets on the somewhat larger-than-usual but otherwise normal campaign bed.

Looking confused, Sephiroth followed, dragging his blanket a little. 

Angeal carried his bag over to the table crammed into another corner and began unpacking things on it: thermos, medicine, second thermos, bottles of water, and a variety of other supplies, turning around with a thermometer in his hand. “Alright, this first, and then you’re going to eat.”

Sephiroth joined him, eyeing the thermometer. “That’s hardly necessary.”

“You could have the flu,” Angeal informed him. “Open.”

Rolling his eyes, Sephiroth opened his mouth. “That had better work fast, I can’t breathe through my nose.”

“Take a breath, then, and hope it goes quickly.”

Sephiroth obeyed, and Angeal reached out to pop the thermometer under his tongue. It was a new model and quite short to reduce damage in transit, and his fingers brushed against Sephiroth’s chin as he withdrew his hand. 

An electric shock lit up the small of Angeal’s back, shooting up his spine like a lightning strike and taking the strength out of his legs in a rush. He crumpled to the floor with a roar of surprise and pain, dimly aware of Sephiroth making a high, tight sound in answer. 

Across the camp, Genesis shot to his feet, feeling shock and pain singing through his bond. But under those feelings was a high note of unfathomable joy and an undertone of amusement, which calmed the redhead enough to actually dress for the weather before he forged out into the rain. 

  
  


By the time Genesis reached the General’s quarters, Angeal was sitting carefully in a chair, pouring tea and soup into cups, and Sephiroth was standing comically straight in the corner, eyes so wide Genesis could see white all the way around. Genesis went right for Sephiroth, hand outstretched. 

“ _ Don’t _ ,” Angeal warned quickly. “He’ll spook, Gen.”

“Nonsense, the man wouldn’t know how to spook if his life depended on it.”

“ _ Only _ the fact that I grabbed him kept him from tearing off into the rain the first time. Do it again and I don’t think I can stop him.”

“But I-“

“And it hurts like a  _ bitch _ , you need to be sitting down.”

“….I….I’m sorry for that,” Sephiroth whispered. 

“You have no control over the size or location of your soulmark,” Genesis pointed out. “Angeal would never had had one on his ass if he’d had a say.”

“Ah ...yes. That.”

“Which is why he’s still standing,” Angeal chuckled. he got up a little stiffly and padded over to Sephiroth with tea. “Here. Drink. We need to talk.”

Sephiroth took the tea and sidled away from Angeal, out of arm’s reach. Angeal swallowed down a sigh. 

“It won’t happen a second time with me, you  _ know _ that.”

Sephiroth found himself a corner to stand in and sipped nervously at the tea. Genesis sighed loudly and went to perch on the end of the bed, watching. 

“So. We do need to talk about this,” Angeal pointed out, returning to his chair. He sat carefully, and Genesis got back up to join him, brushing gentle fingers over the small of his back before settling into his lap.

With Genesis out of the way, Sephiroth returned to the bed and sat on it, sipping the tea. 

“Speak, then,” he murmured. 

“You should trigger with Genesis, when you’re both prepared for it. And we need to figure out what we’re going to do about your skin hunger. Normally there’d be that whole week of leave, but we can’t leave the entire army without the top of the command structure for a week, even at this time of year.”

“No need,” Sephiroth said quickly. “My force will move south to work along the coast and reinforce our lines there. The two of you will split and flank us.”

“….you want to put hundreds of miles between us when you’re going to be suffering from skin hunger?” Angeal asked. “Are you sure about that?”

“A war doesn’t wait for such things. I will endure.”

“…. _ endure _ ?” Genesis demanded. “People have pined and  _ died _ , Sephiroth.”

“I am not  _ people _ . I am superior.”

“You’re human enough to have soul marks,” Angeal said, clamping his arms around Genesis when the redhead sputtered and made to get up. “And what about us? Or at least me, if you don’t intend to trigger with Gen? It’s a two way street, Sephiroth, we’ll both be feeling it.”

“You will survive,” Sephiroth said flatly. “As will I. There will be no arguing.”

“But you can’t just-“ Angeal began, then swore a Genesis surged out of his lap and lunged at Sephiroth.

A minute or two later, Angeal hightailed it out of the cabin with a dazed and limp Genesis over his shoulder while Sephiroth, still inside, lay on the bed and clutched at his thigh. 

Three days later, Sephiroth lead his troops southwards.

—————

The weeks that followed were hard. Despite standing orders to not use private lines of communication, Angeal and Genesis kept in touch across Wutai as they both struggled with the aching need for touch. Fresh bonds triggered a bone-deep need for physical contact commonly called skin hunger, which was believed to strengthen the bond between partners who often were only passing familiar with one another before triggering. At Shinra, all employees, from the highest ranking military officers and executives down to the lowliest of army grunts, was allowed a week of paid leave after triggering in order to spend time with their new partner and adjust to the individual quirks of the fresh bond. A triple bond, while rare, required all three partners to take leave, although the effect was known to be worse on the newest bond partner and could be managed by only one other member of the triad at a time.

This left two irritable, lonely Commanders sending sappy text messages across an active war zone, keeping track of their third through official and unofficial channels. 

Sephiroth, for his part, was wreaking a path of destruction across the southern coasts. Reports came in of devastating rains and freak lightning storms with a ghost-white demon in their heart. The difficult-to-contain southern marshes came under Shinra control with terrifying speed.

The Commanders rejoined briefly near the capitol before Genesis rotated back to Midgar for a brief leave, leaving Angeal to ache for his partners. 

In the first week of May, word reached Angeal’s current encampment: the General had collapsed in the field. Rather than waste time taking the whole squad with him, he put his second in charge, alerted Genesis to the situation, and took off cross country, making for the highland basecamp where, months before, a casual brushing of skin had turned everything on its head. It was far enough behind Shinra’s lines to be a safe location to take the fallen General, and well-established enough to provide a secondary port for incoming supplies and outgoing troops on rotation. And sometimes, rarely, it provided a landing zone for visitors. 

Genesis made the landing pad with a Turk escort at roughly the same time Angeal made the gates, and the pair met up in a dead sprint for the rear of the hospital, where the end of a wing had been cleared to house Sephiroth. 

They were met by a veritable battle-ax of a medic, fists propped on ample hips and a stern expression on her face. 

“Not  _ one _ step further, Commanders,” she snapped. “Not until we know what happened and whether or not it’s transmissible.”

“It’s  _ not _ ,” Angeal promised. “I swear. It isn’t.”

“And how would you know?”

Angeal and Genesis shared a look. It was no secret that they were soulmates, but no one knew they had a third. They had taken pains to keep that third mark hidden, and with Sephiroth’s responses to triggering had not yet filed the formal paperwork that would legally cement the bond. 

“You breathe a  _ word _ before we give permission,” Genesis began. 

“We’re bonded,” Angeal said quickly, elbowing him. “He rejected the bond and took off on campaign.”

“……he’s  _ pining _ ?” The medic covered her face with both hands. “On  _ purpose _ ! Of all the pigheaded, lily-livered ...just go  _ in there!” _

Angeal nodded and scuttled past her, dragging Genesis by the arm. 

In the room, Sephiroth lay still on a bed, hair coiled in a neat braid on the pillow beside his left ear.

“Goddess preserve us, he’s  _ lost weight _ ,” Genesis whispered. Sephiroth wore standard-issue scrubs the were far too short anywhere that mattered, revealing stretches of pale skin and too-skinny limb. The dramatic planes of his face were sharp enough to cut glass with loss of the very little body fat he’d carried to begin with and made ghoulish by lack of color.

“His orderly reported that he was struggling to keep food down for days before the collapse, and that he had been skipping some meals or taking them in private for several weeks before that,” the medic murmured. “He presented here unconscious, starving, dehydrated and in generally poor condition. As you can see, he’s receiving hydration and nutrients, but he has not revived despite our efforts. Knowing now that he’s  _ pining _ , that makes perfect sense. Go on then, you two, work your magic.”

“It’s hardly  _ magic _ ,” Genesis muttered. He sidled up to one side of the bed and lifted one of Sephiroth’s hands in his, running his fingers up from fingertips to elbow, feeling out the lines of him. 

Angeal joined him on the other side of the bed, quietly rearranging Sephiroth’s hair and briefly cupping one cheek in his hand. Finally having skin to skin contact after months of wishing for it was a welcome relief, and Angeal felt a wash of the same from Genesis. Having one another had negated the worst of the skin hunger for the two of them, but it hadn’t made it go  _ away _ . There was an undercurrent of foreign feelings too, one Angeal couldn’t quite place until Sephiroth shifted between them and the feelings roared to life: anger, fear, almost overwhelming nausea, and an underpinning of guilt and pleasure at being touched. 

“Ah, there you are,” Genesis murmured, watching as Sephiroth’s eyes opened. “You gave us a scare, you ass.”

“…..wh-what?” Sephiroth croaked. 

“You almost killed yourself,” Angeal said flatly, taking Sephiroth’s other hand and turning it over in his own. “You’re in the hospital right now, after collapsing in the field.”

“I…what is this?” His fingers curled against Genesis’. “I f-feel…”

“That’s the bond,” Genesis explained. “The bond you’ve been trying to  _ destroy _ without any thought for the two of us while you gallivanted across an active warzone.”

“…it…it feels good….”

“Of course it feels good,” Angeal sighed. “It’s meant to. It’s a positive experience, Sephiroth.”

“…the professor taught me that bonding is a sign of weakness.”

“We’re  _ born _ with these,” Genesis snapped. “Almost everyone  _ is _ . Even your precious professor has one.”

“He has no bond. Just a mark.”

“Which means there’s a bond out there waiting for him,” Angeal corrected. “Regardless, marks bring people together. And rejecting them causes everyone to suffer.”

“….is that what that was?” Sephiroth asked. “I thought it was supposed to be….I don’t know ...something more emotionally charged?”

“Skin hunger is called that for a reason,” Angeal sighed. “It’s an emptiness. A need. A hunger you can’t feed without your partner. For some people it’s sad, sure, or an angry sort of thing. Genesis is that way. I just get quiet and tired. Everyone’s different.”

The bond between the three of them thrummed with rapidly growing calm as the touch of Sephiroth’s partners settled him. 

“……is it always like this? Sephiroth asked after a few long minutes. 

“Like what?”

“….peaceful?”

“Gods no,” Genesis snorted. “It’s all sorts of things. The bond reflects feelings back and forth all the time, and it’s next to impossible to control it. But if you’re talking about the feeling of touch specifically? Usually, yes. Peaceful, arousing, or both. Both is fun.”

Sephiroth nodded faintly, eyes starting to close. Drowsiness had been welling up around the edges of the bond, making Angeal yawn. “Will you be here? When I wake?”

“Of course,” Angeal promised. “In turns- we both need to eat.”

“Alright,” Sephiroth sighed. He rolled onto his side- to the complaint of one of the machines he was attached to, and curled into a loose C shape, pulling Angeal’s hand close to his face as he settled. “Good. We have much to discuss.”


End file.
